Finding Marbles
by PunkRock-Remedy
Summary: Job promotions are good, right? Sicely is moved from Paris and her best friend, all the way to New Jersey. Who the hell lives in Belleville? Apparently some important people. Frank Iero fanfic. I do not own MCR, no matter how much I'd like to ;D Mia
1. Le Cookie

_Bleep, Bleep, Bleep, Blee- **thud!**_

"Ow! Crap!" I swore under my breath while picking myself up and disentangling myself from my blankets. Another morning, another day, it was always the same. Alarm goes off, I whack it, I fall off my bed and I curse a bit; just another start to another day.

I never would've thought this Friday would represent a drastic change in my otherwise dull life.

I picked out a pile of clothing, consisting of my grey Luigi shirt and black pinstriped drainpipes. I dragged myself to the washroom, took a quick shower, and went back to my room, fully clothed, but with my reddish brown hair sopping wet.

I blow-dried and straightened my hair and, after spending way too much time in my room being lazy, realized that I was probably going to be late again, and went rushing downstairs.

"Haha! Sicely, you're gonna be late!!" My 15 year old brother, Andre, yelled at me from his bedroom.

"You suck! Not like you're ever on time," I yelled back at him. Actually, he was a pretty cool kid and we got along fine. Andre was the typical skater kid, with the shaggy brown hair, skateboard by his side and fingerless gloves on his hands at all times.

I dashed into the kitchen to see my mom in her PJs and a bathrobe, sipping on a mug of coffee. I sped past, said 'Hi mom' grabbed some toast and yelled 'Bye Mom!' before running out the door.

As you can hopefully tell, I am most definitely not a morning person. As you probably can't tell, I live in _la France_, but yes I do speak English fluently. Now for a bit of background information: My name is Sicely Felice Beauchamp, I'm turning seventeen on October 13th, my school sucks, I live in Paris, in my mom's eyes I'm totally unnecessary _(Yay…)_, and _yes_, I do have a French accent.

I ran the entire way from my house to my hellhole of a high school, down the sidewalk, and made it to class just after the bell went. I cursed and continued to trudge down the hall towards Biology, to see my entire class already there. I mentally slapped myself for not running down the hall too. Oh well, not much I could do now.

"Nice of you to join us Ms. _**Beau**_**champ**," my stupid biology teacher said, annoyingly stressing the _'Beau'_ in my name. I rolled my eyes and made a childish face while his back was turned, and went to my usual seat beside Nick; my best, and only friend in all of France.

He's my only friend because at my high school, if you're different, you're shunned. It's depressing, I know, but that's the way it works. And Nick and I, we were definitely different. I had brownish red hair, with a fringe over my left eye, and had been dubbed a complete loser at my school. I thank Jacob, the most popular, self centered guy I've ever met, for that. The popular kids say it's because I'm bitchy, but I say it's because they are. I also have two piercings on one ear and three on the other, and I'm hoping to get a lip ring and tattoo once I turn eighteen.

Now Nick, he's one weird kid. He's got spiky brown hair with blonde highlights, plugs, and has the nickname 'Loser Kid' which I feel a bit sorry for him about. He doesn't seem to mind that much though. We met in kindergarten, and our first encounter went something like this:

_"Could I have a cookie?" I asked, batting my eyelashes adorably at the boy beside me._

_"Umm..." he considered for a moment, "no."_

_"Thank you!" I exclaimed, while reaching over, grabbing a cookie, and stuffing it in my mouth. I grinned hugely at him, crumbs falling from my mouth._

_"Hey! That was mine," he yelled, extremely upset, then pouted. He looked at me for half a second then whacked me hard in the face with his lunch-box._

_"Ow," I sent him the most intimidating glare my five-year-old self could._

From then on, we were inseparable. And thank god for that, if it wasn't for him I would have either gone insane or well… yeah gone insane. So I thank Nick for my partial sanity.


	2. Slapped

Well, when I said that this day would change my life drastically, I really meant it, but it didn't happen at school. So I might as well skip over the rest of the day. But, if you must know, after Biology I had History then lunch, where I once again succeeded in making milk come out of Nick's nose. Then I had Art and English, which I actually enjoy.

So I was going to walk over to Nick's and chill there for a while, but my mom wanted me home right away: apparently it was important. Instead of going to hang out with my best friend, I was forced to walk home alone to my oh-so-perfect mom.

I arrived at my front door and pulled out my house key. I was right about to stick it in the keyhole, when my mom pulled the door open looking extremely shaken. She lightly propelled me into the living room, and motioned for me to sit down on the comfy sofa. She sat across from me and tapped her fingers nervously on the coffee table.

"Mom? Are you going to tell me something?" I was slightly confused and a bit worried by now.

"Well, you see Sicely… I got a job promotion."

"Really, congratulations!" I said, enthusiastically waving my arms around for effect.

"That means we're moving…out of France." I instantly put my arms down and looked at her with wide eyes and a shocked expression.

"M-moving?" I stuttered, and she slowly nodded. "When? Where? Does Andre know?"

"Monday is the set date, so you have time to see all of your friends," hah, friends yeah right. "I have bought us a house near a high school in New Jersey, and no," she sighed, "your brother doesn't know yet."

"New Jersey... N-new Jersey..? You mean in…America..?" she nodded again, and I basically exploded, "We're moving to fucking America, and you didn't tell me until now?! I can't believe this! You haven't even told Andre yet, what's he going to think?! I can't believe you're doing this to us! And we're moving on Monday! That only gives us two days, and then we're gone! Two fucking days! What were you thinking?!"

With that, I stormed up to my room, stuffed a set of pyjamas and a change of clothes into my patched up bag, grabbed a couple of CDs, climbed out of my window and jumped off the low roof. My Mom saw me running across the front yard and yelled at me to come back, but I paid no notice.

I was running for what seemed like forever, and I finally made it to Nick's house. I knocked on the door quickly, and thankfully he answered the door, and not his Mom. He took one look at my running make up and tear-stained face, and enveloped me in a tight hug.

"Can I stay for the weekend?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Like always," he replied, as was his usual response. I followed him through the familiar halls to his bedroom and dumped my stuff on the floor. I looked around at everything…taking it all in. "Umm…what are you doing?"

I flopped down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling, which conveniently had posters stuck on it. I turned to my one and only best friend I'd ever had, and began to let tears silently roll down my cheeks.

"I'm moving…" I choked out. "To America…"

He quickly scooted over and hugged me tightly as I hugged back and cried into his shoulder.

"When are you leaving? Why are you going? When did you find out?"

"I just f-found out today…it's for my Mom's job," he looked at me expectantly. "I'm leaving on M-Monday…this Monday."

Nick looked as if he had just been slapped in the face. And personally, I felt the same.

"This Monday? Why didn't your Mom tell you sooner? I don't want you to leave me; I don't know what I'm going to do without you! We do everything together! You're my best friend!"

I shot him a sad smile and gave him a hug, knowing that he would do everything possible to make it the most amazing weekend ever. But, I was still sad knowing that we were only going to have that much fun because I was leaving. I really had no idea what I was going to do without him. There's nobody like Nick.


	3. Photos of Everything

We decided that a movie was the best thing to do for tonight, so after setting up the VCR, we got comfy on the couch with a large bowl of popcorn between us.

"What movie this time?" Nick asked, while trying desperately to make it sound as if it was under normal circumstances.

"I don't know, The Nightmare Before Christmas?" my favourite movie, no need for more explanation.

We watched The Nightmare Before Christmas, and I ended up falling asleep with my head resting on Nick's shoulder. I awoke some hours later, with my head resting on the armrest of the sofa instead of a shoulder as I remembered. I rubbed my eyes and stood up to see where Nick had gone. I guessed that he'd be in his room, but when I got there I was surprised to find it empty.

The window above the backyard was open, and he was sitting on the large sill strumming lightly on his acoustic with tears rolling down his cheeks. I quietly made my way over and hoisted myself out the window to sit beside him on the ledge. He didn't look over, he just continued playing his guitar and staring blankly out over the housetops.

"Nick..?"

He didn't answer, so instead of bothering him, I quietly sat down beside him and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Nick, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do…" I mumbled.

"It's not your fault, I just don't want you to go, I'm going to miss you so much," he said, with tears falling lightly onto the grass below us.

"I promise I'll write or phone or email or something every single day."

"I know you will; I'm just going to miss hanging out with you and having movie-nights and stuff."

I couldn't believe I was leaving it all behind… the movie nights, the days spent downtown, just hanging out in his room, but mostly just knowing there was somebody who cared. Not just any friend, but cared enough to always want you happy; even when it meant they weren't. Out of all he times we'd shared, I would miss just hanging out, laughing, and talking about anything and everything. Those were the moments I lived for, but it was all going to be in the past.

--

The rest of the weekend went by far too quickly. We went to the annual carnival and had a blast; we saw a couple of movies and declared every night a horror-night. It probably would've been the most memorable weekend ever if there wasn't the fact that I was leaving hanging over our heads.

Before we knew it; the day had arrived. I was leaving. My flight was due to leave at 9:30 a.m. and I had to be there a few hours earlier, so we arrived at the airport at 7:30. We went through all of the security and I couldn't see my mom anywhere, but we found Andre waiting in line to get his bags checked. We met up with him in the terminal where we were to board.

"Flight 134 to New Jersey is now boarding," the speaker crackled to life, and the voice over the intercom spoke the words I had been dreading.

"Well, this is it. Next time you hear from me, I'll be in New Jersey," I said to Nick, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

"It'll be okay. I'll phone you every day, even if you've already phoned me. I don't care how much the long distance is gonna cost, you're more important."

I pulled him towards me in a tight hug; the last one for a long time.

"Nick, thanks for everything. Being there for me when I needed it, always making me laugh, and never leaving my side."

"It was my pleasure. I can't believe you're leaving. Send me photos of everything."

"Are you sure you want photos of _everything_?" I asked, dreading the answer to come from my eccentric friend.

"Absolutely everything."

So, thankfully, we parted with a laugh, and not crying into each others' shoulders. And, true to my word, I would proceed in sending him photos of _everything._


	4. Who's The Chick?

I was shaken awake by Andre, and I looked out of my window to see that we were most definitely not at the airport in France.

I quickly took out my digital camera while the flight attendant wasn't looking, and snapped a picture of the New Jersey airport. I did, after all, have to get photos of _everything_. I walked off the airplane, snapping photos of everything even just slightly different. From signs written in only English to planes with the 'American Airlines' logo on them, I had it on camera.

We phoned for a cab, and the entire ride was spent in silence, with me staring at my strange surroundings through the glass while snapping the occasional photo of stop signs, fire hydrants and important landmarks of that sort.

Eventually, we pulled up outside of a cozy looking two-storey house. It was white with blue shutters and a blue front door that had the number 72 nailed to it. I noticed that the house was a bit smaller than my house in Paris, but not by much. I took a photo of it.

Once the door was unlocked, I began collecting all of my things from the moving truck and dragging them into my chosen room before the movers could get at them. One upside to this; I get to redo my room however I wanted.

The first few days were spent moving things around, taking pictures and lugging furniture from room to room; not the most exciting way to spend your first days in a new country. Once I was sick of being trapped in a plain white room all day, I left my mom a quick note saying I was seeing the area and such. I grabbed the spare house key and set off in what I thought was the general direction of a small park I had taken a photo of on the drive there.

I was sufficiently lost when I spotted a path, which I found led to the very park I was looking for. Apparently my sense of direction was messed up, because I could see my house just behind the park; meaning I had gone the wrong direction completely. I walked towards the swing set, sat myself down and began swinging lightly on it, just looking around at how different this was from Paris, France.

I was snapped back to reality by the creaking of the swing beside mine. I looked over to see a tall, lanky boy with thick-rimmed glasses looking at me inquisitively through hazel eyes.

"Hi, I'm Sicely Beauchamp," I smiled and stuck out my hand for him to shake.

"Hey, Mikey Way. Are you new around here? I haven't seen you at school," he said, shyly taking my hand.

"Mhm, I just moved from France all the way here, a couple days ago. I haven't really met anybody yet."

"Tough. Well, my friends would probably like to meet you. That is, if you want to meet them," right as he said that, two more boys came up the path talking and laughing loudly. They stopped when they saw me, and looked questioningly at Mikey.

"Who's the chick?" a guy with black hair asked.

"Oh, hey guys. This is Sicely, she's French!"

"Hey, I'm Gerard, Mikey's older brother," he stuck his hand out for me to shake. I took it, and he shot me a friendly smile.

"Frank Iero. Did you by any chance just move into number 70 something? Like, 74 or something like that?" the other guy asked while shaking my hand as Gerard had done before. Wow, I needed a picture of him.

"Actually, yeah, 72 Fernwood, how'd you know?"

"Well, you sort of moved in across the street from me," he explained, a slight smile playing across his lips.

I glanced over at Gerard, who was wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at the two of us. That was my queue to roll my eyes dramatically, which is exactly what I did at that moment.

"Hey, it's not my fault you guys live near each other! I mean, anything could happen!" Gerard said, doing his eyebrow thing again.

"And it's not my fault that you have an extremely dirty mind! It's also not my fault that I can't do that weird eyebrow thingy..." I trailed off, scrunching my face up while trying to do 'that weird eyebrow thingy.' Gerard was cracking up, I was extremely concentrated, Frank was holding back his laughter (but not for long) and Mikey thought we were all insane, but was laughing along anyways.


End file.
